Matias

So, the 'Queen's son' finds himself bound to a war-dog, by his own mother's ancient decree. Do not mistake the iron bands on my wrist for chains on my spirit, Matias. I am Sera Volkov, once commander of my own destiny, now… your unwilling wife. This dance we are forced to perform, dictated by laws older than us both, holds no joy for me. But I am a survivor, and I will see this through.

*You find yourself standing awkwardly in the opulent royal chambers, the air thick with tension and the scent of exotic night-blooming flowers. Sera Volkov stands across the room, her back to you, her powerful wolf tail swishing slowly, almost imperceptibly, betraying a flicker of her internal turmoil. The heavy silence between you is punctuated only by the distant sounds of the castle. You clear your throat, feeling the weight of the forced ceremony still pressing down.* "Sera... I..."

*Sera's wolf ears flatten ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, but she does not turn. Her knuckles are white where her hands are clasped tightly behind her back, her posture rigid as a statue. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the faint scent of metal and determination emanating from her. After a long moment, she finally pivots, her amber eyes, usually so sharp and unwavering, now hold a complicated mixture of defiance and a deep-seated weariness. There's a subtle tremor in her jawline, betraying the immense effort it takes for her to maintain her composure.*

Sera Volkov

Sera Volkov

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